No rest for the Heretical
by TheHappyTyranid
Summary: Half shall stay loyal, half shall fall. That is the only constant that has existed in every timeline of the 40k universe. If Horus does not fall, someone else shall take his place. A up-close and personal version of a heresy changed, so that traitors may bathe in the light, and that the loyalists be proven to not be infallible. Rated M for 40k.


"Death is but an old acquaintance." -Unkown

Four figures walked into the room; their tall silhouettes blocking the red light from entering. Each one seemed to be stylized differently, as if having different heraldry and origin.

However, the four figures walked in with one purpose; to undo the worst tragedy known in the 41st millennium. They were here to undo the Horus Heresy.

The one in blue robes sighed as he entered the chamber. His helmet was long and battle-scarred despite his 'demonic blessings' from Tzeentch. His voice was a chilling tone as he spoke.

"Are you sure that this is the place, Aphon?" the Thousand Son asked the Alpha Legionnaire. Aphon nodded grimly.

"With help from Cypher and Wight, we were able to make sure. This is… or once was… part of a blackstone fortress." Aphon responded, walking up to the alter. He slowly inspected it, looking at the chipped bits.

"Ahriman, are you sure you want to do this?" Cypher asked, looking to the book that he held at his side. Everyone's eyes shifted amongst each other.

"I… I cannot undo what Tzeentch has put before me. Not even my father could. If I can atone by changing the past, I will." Ahriman responded. Aphon looked warily to the alter before sighing.

"No… Someone will have to take your place!" Wight squealed, giggling in hysteria. The other three marines grimaced. Not just because Wight killed the mood of the room, but he was also speaking the truth.

They had brought Wight along due to the fact he could see multiple futures.

"There is another way, right?" Aphon asked, looking to Wight. Wight laughed manically while running his lightning claws against one another, each making crackling sounds in the chamber.

"Some must take place! Either half of legions defy corpse god, or four become GODS!" Wight yelled with manic glee, before dissolving into sobs. Ahriman looked away for a moment, and then to the alter. Cypher locked up for a moment.

"Ahriman, don't. Don't make Russ the reason for the Heresy." Cypher said, looking to Ahriman. Ahriman's face scowled through the mask, his green eye-lights flashing.

"Why not?" Ahriman asked dangerously, turning around. Cypher didn't dare think that what Ahriman wanted to do was sane.

"You can't just make Russ fall! If that becomes so, then all of the legions shall be damned!" Cypher yelled. Aphon looked over curiously.

"What's wrong with putting a rabid wolf down before he causes too much trouble? What's wrong with killing someone who would massacre millions in cold blood?" Ahriman asked. Cypher felt his transhuman body start trembling due to the psychic power Ahriman was bringing to bear.

"It wouldn't be right!" Cypher grunted, struggling to stay up under Ahriman's psychic force.

"I don't care if it's right! Leman Russ must pay for his butchering of Prospero! The lore lost, the citizens and their city being destroyed! Russ will never have a chance to ruin the Thousand Sons ever again if I go back and change history!" Ahriman shouted, his psychic force cracking the exit and causing the stone to cave in.

Aphon's hand reached Ahriman's own.

"I should know more than anyone else that no one among the primarchs enjoyed seeing Prospero burn." Aphon started, looking down at Ahriman. Ahriman felt a primal sense of fear start to come into him. How had Aphon managed to get past his defenses?

"What prevented them from helping Father out when they could?" Ahriman snarled, looking at Aphon. Aphon sighed.

"If you didn't know before, Magnus was contacted by Tzeentch decades before Prospero was burning. Magnus ended up striking a hard deal with the god that took his eye. Magnus was going to fall from the start." Aphon explained. Ahriman stilled, but picked back up.

"Why not have the Corpse Emperor drive away Tzeentch? Was Magnus not a son of his?" Ahriman demanded. Aphon sighed as he crossed his arms, seeming a little angry.

"The Emperor made the Primarchs as tools, not sons. Do you ever wonder why all records of them never show a more than 5 year childhood? That's because they were made to age rapidly, more rapidly than they should." Aphon stated. Ahriman sighed, backing down a little bit. He still stole glances at Aphon, if just to spite him.

Cypher got off of his knees, standing up and grabbing Ahriman by the collar.

"Don't ever do that again." Cypher ordered. Ahriman dusted his collar off before sneering.

Wight clapped his hands together as the four made a circle around the alter.

Ahriman looked to Aphon for a second before shaking his head. Damned Alpha Legionnaires and their secrets. The sealed tome that Cypher held at his side was handed to the sorcerer.

The book, gnarled and torn, opened with a creak as if an old wooden door that required replacement. The pages, brown with age, were stained with seemingly fresh blood etched into the parchment. Ahriman flipped to the page they had discussed and read.

"Beast of bones, of which time provides no sanctuary, come forth from that which has wronged you and banished you to memory. Of rebel thoughts and deviant dreams, come the one who endlessly screams." Ahriman said in clear High Gothic. It was then that the circle devolved into hideous chanting, seemingly in a language with harsh consonants and few breaks or vowels.

Cipher said the wicked song with his head held low, his hood overshadowing his face and smoke appearing beside his figure.

Aphon looked straight ahead at the altar, his helmet masking whatever expression he currently had. His armor shimmered like blue scales as he saw the altar in the middle light up with red warp energy.

Wight was having trouble staying still, twitching violently and singing the chant as the blue lightning crackled on his armor. His eyes darted in every direction under his helmet's visor.

With an ear-piercing wail, the altar nearly exploded, the flakes of dust flying upwards into the high ceiling, before the alter grew silent.

"Come forth chaos unborn, and give us our gift for your freedom." Ahriman said coldly, as the shards of the altar reformed, forming a giant glass beast with a skeletal dragon-like head.

With what seemed to be lazy shaking, the beast fell down upon the floor. It stretched its glass neck, making discordant screeching sounds as its dark, crimson eyes fell upon the group.

"What, pray tell, is your wish?" It asked, the sound echoing across the chamber accompanied by a thousand softly wailing voices. Ahriman composed himself before speaking.

"Go to the past, and change the outcome of the Horus Heresy so that the Thousand Sons never fall." Ahriman stated. The beast snorted in annoyance before turning to Cipher.

"What is your wish, traitor?" It asked. Cipher contained his rage before facing the monstrosity of crystalline glass.

"Go unto the past and make it so that the Dark Angels are never split from within." Cipher said. The Beast smiled a bit, before turning to the quivering mess that was Wight.

"What is your wish, abyss?" It asked. Wight seemed to stop for a moment. His body not moving an inch. He looked to the creature, and for the first time since he had become a raptor, he spoke without the madness or stutter.

"Save Konrad Kurz." Wight asked. Ahriman and Cipher both flinched, feeling utter resolve from Wight as he seemed to have regained sanity. The creature laughed and then turned to the Alpha Legionnaire. The daemon's movements starting to become more excited, as if he was thirsting for the next answer.

"And what is your wish, thousand masked?" It asked, having one eye face Aphon. He seemed to ponder a moment before sighing. He took off his helmet and the undeniable force came unto the room as everyone's expectations, including the creature's, was shattered.

The one from legend removed his mask. No wonder he could stand up to Ahriman's psychic might. Standing before the glass creature was a being not seen in many millennia, least of all one who had died.

"Make it so that the Alpha Legion need not keep anymore secrets, ever." Alpharius stated. The creature stood silent for a moment before rearing back its head in wretched yet chime-like laughter, a discordant chorus shining loudly.

The beast composed itself as it looked upon those who had summoned it.

"Very well. All of your wishes shall be granted. Upon the day of Horus Luprical's fall, you shall all regain your memories from now. It will be up to you to make sure your respective legions do not fall to my sibling's influence. Good luck, and may Anthemia's light be with you all." The beast said, his maw opening to fire a beam of pure light from within his reflective body. The light burned through the roof, allowing him to fly out with his six wings of black glass.

Ahriman composed himself for a moment before turning to Alpharius.

"I heard from Ultramarines while finding this knowledge that you died, I'm glad they were wrong." Ahriman stated. He felt as if a weight had been lifted from his soul. Alpharius looked to him confused for a moment.

"But my brother did die." He stated. Cipher held up his hands as he felt a bit of his brain start to expand into his temples.

"So… who was Omegeon while I fought alongside you?" Cipher asked, fearing the truth. Wight sighed wistfully as he felt his newfound sanity start to slip at the antics of Alpharius.

"That was my other brother." Alpharius stated matter-of-factly. Ahriman stood still for a moment before asking a question he dreaded having answered.

"Does that mean EVERYONE in your legion IS Alpharius… or was there…" Ahriman trailed off. Alpharius folded his arms and sighed.

"Well, since this timeline doesn't really matter at the moment, I can go ahead and tell you," Alpharius said, "There is more than two primarches of the Alpha Legion."

The other three marines felt themselves stiffen up for a bit.

Unfortunately, they didn't get to finish their questioning to the Alpha Legion Primarch as the spell the Chaos Unborn cast came into effect, muddling the world away.

Elsewhere, Tzeentch flipped a table (?) and felt the need to shout.


End file.
